no more difficult steps
no more tortuous excursions to the window, the toilet, the door
no more strong determined fragile tired tired smiles
her life has shrunk to this room
this bed
absorbed now in the process of each breath
she is so preoccupied with the business of dying
she is too busy for living
she
the primary she
my beginning and ending
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I find myself writing poetry again just now - once more in a situation of grief, pain and anxiety. The words just come, the poems form thems...
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1927-2002 How terribly strange to be orphaned. Too young a word for someone my age. Sudden yet hardly unforeseen in the gym Wednesday, gone ...
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CAUGHT I saw a moment caught and thought of you A spider's thread holds fast and true A leaf does not let go And such is love at times...
1 comment:
oh. tingles.
i know exactly what you mean. that confinement to the bed, and the realisation that it is her deathbed. that awful knowing.
oh letty.
sorry i have only just seen these
x
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